


Fort Freelancer

by supercasey



Series: Red Vs. Blue One-Shots [26]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Male-Female Friendship, Pillow & Blanket Forts, Team, Team Bonding, Team Dynamics, Team as Family, Wrestling, literally its just freelancers being happy and together and a FAMILY
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 09:58:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4015444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supercasey/pseuds/supercasey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Freelancers make a pillow fort in the rec-room. Battle for the crown ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fort Freelancer

Fort Freelancer

Description: The Freelancers make a pillow fort in the rec-room. Battle for the crown ensues.

A/N: This is disgustingly short and dumb but me and my sisters made a pillow fort last night and I feel like this needed to be written.

...

He stood tall over his kingdom, tall and defiant as he watched his people bask in his great leadership. Below the beautiful, elegantly made fort, the other Freelancers made the fort even better, adding on more and more pillows and blankets they’d found. At the top of the fort, sitting in a red leather recliner stolen from the Director’s office, sat Agent Washington, who was lying back in his throne, arms behind his head as he sighed with content. It felt good to be king. He even had a crown- a poorly folded Burger King crown- but a crown nonetheless, and his people seemed to obey his orders (He hadn’t really given the THAT many orders, but you get his point). Suddenly, he heard the rec-room door open, and glanced up, finding the visitor to be South Dakota.

“Ah, lady South!” Washington greeted, sitting up to hold his arms out, as if to hug her. “So good of you to join us. Have you come to serve the Kingdom of Freelancers and Cats?”

“The fuck-” South began, voice thick with disdain and disbelief. “-Is this shit?” She looked over the pillow fort, eyes full of amazement by it’s sheer size and mass.

“King Wash just said, South.” North reminded his twin, appearing from behind the pillow fort, wearing Superman pajama pants and a Wonder Woman T-shirt. “This is the fort for the Kingdom of Freelancers and Cats.”

“No… no, I got that fucking part.” South assured her twin, waving him off as she kept her eyes on the truly impressive fort. “What I wanna know is why the fuck is it in the middle of the goddamn rec-room?”

“It’s the only room the Director won’t bother us in.” Connie explained, also appearing from behind the fort. The way she said it, it sounded like she knew from experience and careful planning. “Besides, in here we have access to the TV and the XBOX.”

"You’re all children, the lot of you.” South decided, trying to sound like she wasn’t amused by all of this. It was hard, considering Connie was only wearing a brown tank-top and brown, lacy panties. “Where’s Wyoming? I’m sure HE’D agree with me.”

”Oh, you mean the royal jester?“ Wash asked, offhandedly. "He’s getting his costume ready with his second-in-command, Fool Florida. I’m sure they’ll both be back any moment now.”

"You should join in, South.” Carolina suggested, sitting cross-legged in front of the pillow fort with York, playing some racing game on her game system while he watched. “It’s pretty fun to just goof off in here. Besides, Wash is a pretty sweet king.”

"Yeah. No. You fuckers need a queen.” South announced, rolling up the sleeves of her sweater menacingly. “Where’s the ass-hat queen, fucknuts?”

“There is no queen. Only King Washington.” Wash answered, crossing his arms sternly as he gave South a slightly worried look. “However, I suppose I could allow you to be one of my royal guards, like Knight Maine has so kindly agreed to become.”

"Ain’t happening.” South told him, giving him an absolutely terrifying grin. “Hop off your throne before you’re thrown, Washy.”

“Stand down, Lady South.” Wash ordered, though his words fell on deaf ears. Before long, she began climbing up the fort, no one daring to get in her way. “U-Um… Lady South… I-I need you to stand- AH!”

In no time flat, South tackled Washington, the two struggling and wrestling in the impressively large reclining chair. Somehow, the fort stayed upright through the match, though it swayed dangerously every so often. South fought dirty, tickling Wash where she knew he was ticklish and biting him even. Hell, she even licked him a few times! Before long, Wash was screeching and wiggling like a younger brother caught between a sister and a hard place. Down below, the other Freelancers watched intently, making no move to help their king. Soon, South managed to stand up, holding Wash up above her head, before she threw him off of the throne. York, seeing this, quietly began singing ‘Mm Watcha Say’ with North, who joined in with perfect harmony.

“There’s a new ruler, Fuckturds!” South declared, taking a seat in the recliner, arms behind her head as she savored her victory. “From now on, this’ll be the Kingdom of Lesbians and Shitheads! Princess Connie, retrieve for me my rightful crown!”

“Yes, Queen South.” Connie replied, obeying her new queen. Without a hint of sympathy to her fallen king, she carefully removed his now slightly bent crown, climbing up the fort to place it delicately on South’s head. “Your crown, your highness.”

“That’s more like it.” South praised, grinning as she lulled back in her chair, getting some well-earned rest. “Carry on, my subjects. Carry on.”

And so, South Dakota became the new, rightful Queen of the fortress. Down below, Washington laid in silence, eyes wide as he continued to stare at nothing. His fortress besmirched, his crown stolen, and his name in ruin, he chose to submit in silence to Queen South’s new ruling. Even as the hour passed by, York and North continued to quietly sing 'Mm Watcha Say’.

...

A/N: This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever written.

~Supercasey.


End file.
